


Songs To Me

by Dirty_Corza



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bunny Suits, Dirty Talk, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dirty_Corza/pseuds/Dirty_Corza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dressing up in satin bunny suits, going to a bike shop. Of course it's for a case.</p><p>That doesn't mean Sherlock expects John to agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Songs To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Random_Nexus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Random_Nexus/gifts).



Of all his plans, Sherlock hadn’t expected John to agree to this one. It included flying to America, dressing in bunny suits, and proceding to investigate a bike shop while in said revealing bunny suits. Agreeing to go to America, he understood. He had even expected John to insist on going with him to the bike shop. 

However, when he pulled out the suits, complete with fluffy tails, tights, heels and bunny ears, he had expected John to stop agreeing to things. He had expected some form of protest to the outfits. Something other than John going to the bathroom for an hour before returning with a thoughtful look on his face, fully dressed in his own clothes, heading to the door of the hotel room. “We need bow tie collars.” Was all he said before leaving, not giving Sherlock the slightest chance to come to terms with what was happening.

Sherlock was stuck in the room alone and unable to try and figure John out until the other man returned, since John had left without his key or phone. It was maddening, and wonderful, and Sherlock wasn’t quite sure it was real. More than once he pinched himself to see if he was awake. He went through the past week he could remember in England, trying to figure out if there was any chance he was drugged, to have John agreeing to this of all things. Each time, though, the answer was the same. He wasn’t high, or dreaming This world in which John went to buy accessories for bunny costumes was intoxicatingly real.

When John finally returned, he held a mismatched pair of collars. One was the same red satin as his suit, the other, what Sherlock was sure was a perfect match for his black one. With a grin, John handed him the red tie. “This way, we’ll be sure to look like a set.” Sherlock was sure there was a wink as John turned away, though he couldn’t say for sure, it happened too fast. That confused him all the more. This had been supposed to be a trip where he solidified in his mind John’s lack of attraction for him, and yet, at every turn, John seemed to be hinting at something more, or, at the very least, not turning down his flirtations.

The next day they were to put the plan in action. John insisted Sherlock got ready first. As Sherlock zipped up the strapless, backless one piece, he was grateful for John’s insight. The collar was the perfect tie in from the suit upward. He exited the restroom to find John hadn’t waited, instead, he was encased in the fabric, the white fluffy tail accenting nicely the curves of his ass. That was what Sherlock noticed at first, at least. How could he not? The way John was turned away, bending at the waist to adjust the straps of his heels, it was damn near a miracle Sherlock didn’t make a fool out of himself demonstrating his approval right then and there. 

It was when John turned around, though, that Sherlock’s jaw really dropped. He was faced with a John that had done something he hadn’t even considered a possibility. John had bought stick on body gems and accented the scar in his shoulder with them, a sight that caused Sherlock to pause, to catch his breath and let his mind catch up with the rest of him.

“Wow.” was all he could say, flushing at the grin John gave him as he stretched one leg out before him. 

“You like it?” There was that wink again, that teasing, barely there, caught-you-thinking-about-my-arse wink, so fast Sherlock wouldn’t have believed it real if he hadn’t seen it the night before as well.

“Yes.” Sherlock had to swallow hard, reciting seventy-two different variations of skin diseases in his mind to calm himself down. “God, yes.”

John simply chuckled at that, grabbing a black clutch -when had he gotten that?- before heading out the door. “Ready to try out a few motorbikes?” he called back to Sherlock, who was stumbling as he tried to hurry and follow him. “Don’t hurt yourself in those heels. I’d have to carry you back to the room, and I’m not doing that in MY heels.”

“Yeah, right.” Sherlock couldn’t do more than agree, not with the way his mind was finally catching up with things. This John, cool-headed confident. Strutting in heals, in tights, in a strapless, backless leotard with a bunny tail twitching over his rear. It was the best idea he’d ever had, and yet the worst as well. Because his mind was already starting to catalogue everything about him, and it wasn’t going to stop until the new information dataset was complete. Which meant the case? The one he and John were here to solve in the first place? Was going to go by the wayside as he stared at the lines of John’s legs, the way the tights flowed over them smoothly as he moved, how that meant John regularly shaved his legs. It was the only solution.

“John?” He put out a hand to stop John from entering the elevator, eyes slowly moving to meet his best friend’s. “I can’t. Today. I can’t focus on the case. I thought I could, but you look. I need…” He took a deep breath, taking a step closer to John, eyes unable to be torn away from the sight of the glory that was John in a bunny suit. “I can’t pretend to be interested in some motorbike with you standing there, looking like that.”

John’s grin grew wider as he pressed the button again, waiting for the elevator to return. “Good. Because, Sherlock? I want your eyes on me today, as I mount the bikes, I want your eyes on me, not some machinery. I want you to pay attention to how I stroke the handles, to the way my legs grip the sides as I prepare for the ride of my life. Is that clear?”

Sherlock nodded, letting John lead them into the elevator and press the button for the lobby.

“Good. The case can wait until tomorrow, though we won’t be able to go in bunny suits again.” 

“That’s probably for the best.”

John chuckled, “Yes, at least as far as solving the case is concerned.”

**Author's Note:**

> A customer at work mentioned having strange dreams of bunnies and motorcycles. And my muse decided this was the perfect culmination of those two things.


End file.
